


Made To Be Broken

by paperstorm



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Clemmings, Established Relationship, M/M, Mentions of Larry being real, Mentions of Underage, Michael's POV, bottom!Luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It isn’t new, this thing between them. It’s been happening since high school, since they stopped hating each other. It just hasn’t been official – or exclusive – until relatively recently.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made To Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> *waves* Hello Clemmings fans. I'm by far not a first-time author but this is my first 5sos fic. I meant it to be pure smut, I swear I did, but I really should know by now I can't write PWP. Some plot and a lot of feelings crept in. What can ya do. I hope you enjoy anyway! Title comes from the song Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls (my Luke/Michael theme song). Cheers.

Luke tends to rile Michael up when they’re on stage. Intense looks that linger a little too long, sharing his microphone, his face turning practically into a cartoon heart-eyes emoji while Michael’s trying to remember the words to his solos. The worst is when he looks over at Michael while Calum is singing – taking the few moments of spare time to look Michael up and down and bite at his lip-ring enticingly.  
  
He does it on purpose, Michael’s pretty sure, although Luke’s never admitted it. Luke gets more confident on stage with every show and lately he hardly lets his nerves show at all and has adopted this rock’n’roll sex-God persona that the fans love, but Michael is also nearly positive Luke turns it up for his benefit. To distract him, make him think about things he shouldn’t be instead of lyrics and chord progression, so Michael will be extra hungry for it when they get back to the hotel. People who think Luke is all silly smiles and wide-eyed innocence are dead wrong. He’s a little shit like that sometimes. He wants Michael half-hard and dizzy for it before the show is even over. It’s a reckless thrill for both of them, damn near starting the foreplay in front of thousands of people.  
  
Tonight it’s particularly bad. Or particularly good. Michael can never decide. It’s bad because Luke’s secret goal, Michael’s discovered, is to make Michael fuck up while he’s playing, so he can tease him later about how affected he gets. It’s good, because the sex is always especially memorable while they’re still flushed and sweaty and wound up from the show. So it’s both. And tonight Luke is going for it like he’s trying to win a prize.  
  
He keeps brushing up against Michael, making it look like an accident but Michael knows better. He sings into Michael’s mic more often than his own, so he’s close enough that Michael can smell him, sweat and deodorant and the coconut-scented whatever he uses to get his hair to stand straight up. He points right at Michael while he sings that line from Disconnected that always makes Michael think about their relationship – _I find my sweet escape when I’m alone with you_. It isn’t the first time Luke’s done that, and it always puts butterflies in Michael’s stomach. And he sits next to Michael on drum-set platform during Amnesia, and smiles at him while Calum sings and Michael strums his acoustic guitar. He isn’t even messing with Michael on that one. The smile on his face is genuine, soft and affectionate as he watches Michael’s fingers move over the strings, and that undoes Michael more than anything else.  
  
It’s a good set. Everyone sounds great, Ashton has the crowd laughing in between songs, and people sing along so loudly when Luke asks them to that it gives Michael chills. He still can’t quite wrap his head around it sometimes, that they’re actually successful. Sometimes he worries he’s going to wake up suddenly and find himself back in his bedroom at home, literally dreaming of how he wants his life to be instead of up here living it with his best friends.  
  
They burst back into their dressing room after the second encore, bouncing up and down like little kids and yelling over each other, buzzing with the leftover exhilaration that sometimes takes hours to burn off after a good night. Ashton loudly declares it the best show of the tour – “Of the _decade_!” Calum corrects – and forces them into a group hug that’s sweaty and gross but still makes Michael indescribably happy. His life is too good, sometimes. He can’t quite process it rationally so he just rides it out and hopes this never changes.  
  
Luke pushes Michael ahead of the others on their way to the van, whispering something into his ear that Michael doesn’t hear because of the racket around them. Before he can ask Luke to repeat himself, Luke is man-handling him into the back seat, following after him. Calum and Ashton climb into the middle seat and chat animatedly about their performance and don’t notice the way Luke sits with his whole side pressed up against Michael’s and rests his hand on the top of Michael’s thigh, long fingers playing along the inseam of his jeans and inching slowly upward as they drive, finally stopping _just_ close enough to his crotch to have Michael struggling not to pant too loudly and give them away.  
  
“M’gonna suck it so hard when we get back,” Luke murmurs, right into Michael’s ear, only loud enough for him to hear it.  
  
Michael swears his heart stops for a few beats. The words hit him like a punch to the gut and he forgets to breathe for a moment. “Fuck, Luke,” he whispers back, equal parts hating him and loving him right now, for doing this to him while he can’t react properly to it.  
  
“That too,” Luke answers seductively, his lips just barely brushing the skin under Michael’s ear and then disappearing. He knows exactly what he’s doing to Michael, knows that Michael’s going to have a hell of a time hiding the bulge in his pants when they have to get out of the van.  
  
“You’re such an asshole,” Michael grits out from between teeth clenched so hard his jaw aches.  
  
Luke hums in agreement. “Maybe you should teach me a lesson.”  
  
“Are you two making out back there?” Ashton snaps, twisting around suddenly in his seat to look at them.  
  
Luke takes his hand off Michael’s leg quickly enough, but he doesn’t move from where he’s leaning heavily against Michael’s side. Luckily it’s dark enough that they’re mostly hidden. That, and, it isn’t like they aren’t _all_ handsy with each other anyway, especially Luke. He’s just as likely to be caught cuddling with Calum as he is with Michael.  
  
“No,” Luke says, laughing a little when Ashton rolls his eyes.  
  
“Not _yet_ , anyway,” he mumbles.  
  
“People are gonna figure shit out, you know, if you keep being so obvious,” Calum says. He stays facing straight ahead, his head tipped forward and his right arm moving slightly like maybe he’s scrolling through something on his phone. “You wanna end up like Harry and Louis?”  
  
It’s an actual concern, and Michael doesn’t like thinking about it. “Sorry,” he says quietly, and he’s sincere about it. The last thing in the world he wants is to make the other two feel uncomfortable. He loves them just as much as Luke, just not in quite the same way. “Yeah. You’re right.”  
  
Calum does turn around then, tossing Michael a small, reassuring smile over his shoulder. “I’m not _mad_ , Michael.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
They’re pulling up to the back entrance of the hotel before anyone can say anything else, even though Ashton looked like he was going to. They all climb out and head back to their side-by-side rooms, as quietly as they can just in case there are fans camped out anywhere. They separate into their rooming pairs to shower, and Michael wants to climb into the roomy stall with Luke but he doesn’t because in all likelihood Calum and Ashton are going to bound in here the second they’re both dressed and demand they all go out. They’re not hiding from their band-mates, but Michael doesn’t have any interest in being caught by them either.  
  
His prediction is proven right a few minutes later. There’s the world’s shortest knock on the door that connects their rooms, and then Ashton’s voice calls out, “Naked or not, we’re coming in!” half a second before the door is flung open. Luke is bare-chested but has a pair of sweats on, but Michael _is_ mostly naked so he turns around and quickly pulls on a pair of underwear and a shirt. It’s not like they’ve never seen his ass before.  
  
“Alright, lads!” Calum cries, clapping his hands together. “What now? Saw a couple cool looking bars while we were driving back.”  
  
“How’re you gonna get into a bar?” Luke asks. It’s sort of an irrelevant question. They’ve all gotten into bars, even though none of them are legal in the States.  
  
“Didn’t Lindsay Lohan have a drinking problem at like 17? You don’t have to be legal if you’re famous,” Calum points out.  
  
Ashton lets out a sparkly laugh and shoves him. “You sound like such a douchebag when you say shit like that.”  
  
Calum laughs too. “Not, like, in a diva way. It’s just the truth.”  
  
“I think I’d rather stick around here tonight, if that’s okay,” Michael says, with an apologetic smile. He’s hoping Luke will stay with him, but he’s not going to say that.  
  
“Me too. I’m wiped,” Luke pipes up immediately, pretending to be casual about it but Michael sees through it and a dirty thrill runs through him.  
  
Calum shrugs and says, “Suit yourself,” but Ashton gives Michael a look halfway between amused and embarrassed.  
  
He follows Calum out of the room, audibly telling him, “You know that means they’re gonna fuck, right?”  
  
Luke giggles nervously and drowns out Calum’s answer. Then he smiles shyly over at Michael, so different from the confident guy in the car twenty minutes ago who was practically groping Michael right in front of their friends. Somehow Michael’s embarrassed now too; he feels it in the flush of his cheeks. Not necessarily because Ashton and Calum know what they’ll be up to, but because it was said out loud when usually it isn’t, and now it’s hanging there in the room between them. Like now the room itself is expecting it of them. They’re not especially in the habit of actually talking about what they do together, particularly not with the rest of the band. They sort of just … do it. And, because now they’ll have to see each other first thing in the morning and there won’t be a doubt between them about exactly what went on.  
  
Luke laughs again, soft and anxious, and it makes Michael forget everything else because it’s the sweetest sound.  
  
“You were amazing tonight,” Michael tells him, smiling to himself when Luke’s face lights up.  
  
“So were you. Your solo in Long Way Home was the best it’s ever been.”  
  
Michael believes Luke means that, but doesn’t quite believe it’s the truth. He’s never fully happy with the way he sounds live. “It was alright. I’m not as good as you.”  
  
Luke shakes his head and walks over, sliding his arms around Michael’s waist. “That’s not true. Your voice is gorgeous. You could be the lead singer, you guys don’t even need me.”  
  
Michael doesn’t bother pointing out the staggering inaccuracy of that statement. Instead he trails his fingers through Luke’s damp hair, cupping the back of his head, and says, “I need you.”  
  
Luke quirks one eyebrow and his voice drops an octave. “Oh yeah? What for?”  
  
Michael bites his lower lip and takes Luke’s words for the challenge they are. “Kissing,” he murmurs, pressing his lips briefly into Luke’s. “Touching. Teasing.”  
  
“Fucking?” Luke asks, mischievous glint in his eye that makes Michael want to shove him down onto the bed.  
  
“Mm. Definitely that too.”  
  
“Cal and Ash are gonna know.” Luke grips Michael’s waist tighter as he says it; pulls him closer.  
  
“Do you care?”  
  
Luke takes a moment to think before he answers, biting absently at his lip-ring. “I don’t, like … _care_. It’s not like they don’t know we do it. It’s just weird. In the morning. It’s like this thing, and we all know it happened, but we’re all very aware of the fact that we’re deliberately not talking about it.”  
  
Michael nods.  
  
He isn’t crazy about that part of it, either. It isn’t new, this thing between them. It’s been happening since high school, since they stopped hating each other. It just hasn’t been official – or exclusive – until relatively recently. For a long time, they were best friends who occasionally fell into each other’s arms when they were lonely or sad or sometimes just bored.  
  
The first time they kissed, it was because they were both new at it and liked it and figured it was easier to do it with each other since they spent all their time together anyway, recording covers and posting them on YouTube. They would curl up together on the couch at Michael’s house before his mom got home from work and kiss until their lips went numb – or until one of them would get hard and it would turn weird, which usually didn’t take long for Michael because Luke was a really good kisser. Then one time, they forgot to stop, and Luke moaned and shivered and came in his pants, and nearly cried with how mortified he was until Michael grabbed him and hugged him and promised it was okay. Truthfully, Michael liked making Luke feel that good, even if he didn’t quite know what that meant back then.  
  
Michael gave Luke a blow-job once in his bedroom because no one ever had before, and Michael told him how awesome it was and then didn’t think it was fair to say that and leave Luke waiting for some girl who might take six months to decide she wanted to suck Luke off. Michael was right there, and he _did_ want to, so it worked out for everyone.  
  
They were properly addicted to it by the time they started touring, quick hand-jobs on the tour bus whenever they could manage it and fucking in hotel rooms when they had the time. If Calum or Ashton ever wondered why Luke and Michael always wanted to room together, they never asked. Liz didn’t either while she was still with them before Luke turned 18, but Michael always sort of suspected she knew all along and was just waiting for Luke to tell her.  
  
Then three weeks ago, nearly two years into this sort of, maybe, yes-but-also-no thing between them, a fan in Los Angeles asked Luke out one night after a show, and Luke went. Maybe because he wanted to, maybe because he was too sweet to say no, but either way it destroyed Michael. He was jealous and angry and hurt almost to the point of tears, and everyone noticed. By the time Luke got back, Michael was lying in bed in their room, curled up on his side, wallowing in his own miserable thoughts of what Luke and the girl might have been doing at any given moment. She was beautiful, and Michael isn’t, and Luke deserves someone better but Michael just wanted him for himself.  
  
“Ashton says you’re upset,” Luke’s quiet voice had said, crawling on his knees on the bed behind Michael.  
  
“I’m fine,” Michael had lied. “How was your date?”  
  
The mattress dipped in the middle and Luke had wrapped himself around Michael’s back, his arm slipping over Michael’s waist, warm and familiar. “Michael.”  
  
“Did you fuck her?” Michael had blurted out, unable to keep it in or keep the waver out of his voice.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Were you going to?”  
  
“ _No_. Will you look at me?” Luke tugged at his shoulder and Michael reluctantly turned onto his back to see Luke’s face. Luke looked as upset as Michael felt, and cupped Michael’s cheek in his hand. “Haven’t you figured it out? I only want you.”  
  
“What about everything else?”  
  
“What everything else? Nothing else matters to me. Just you.”  
  
They’d talked and kissed and touched and fallen asleep tangled up together, and then the next morning they told Calum and Ashton. A week later they told their road crew and their parents and a few other people who needed to know, so now, as much as they’re not exactly public, it isn’t a secret either, among the people who matter to them.  
  
Calum was surprised, Ashton wasn’t, and they’ve both mostly been cool about it. The only part that bothers them is the same thing that bothers Michael – that they’re a band and that this complicates that. Michael’s been in love with Luke since he was old enough to understand what that means, so he isn’t worried that’s going to change any time soon and ruin their ability to work together. But he does feel like they were this group, four best friends, risking everything to make their dreams come true and doing it all together, and now he and Luke are embarking on this secret thing that Calum and Ashton can’t be part of. Michael knows how much he’d hate to be in their shoes, looking in from the outside, so he understands why Luke doesn’t love the idea of their band-mates knowing exactly what’s going to happen in this room while they’re out having fun. It’s not like Michael wants to invite their friends to join in, but it still feels like he and Luke are excluding them.  
  
“Maybe they should start fucking,” Michael suggests, to take Luke’s mind off it. “Then we could be couple friends.”  
  
Luke snickers and shakes his head. “You should bring that up.”  
  
“I’d fuck them,” Michael jokes. “They’re both hot.”  
  
Luke’s face falls into an exaggerated pout and he smack’s Michael’s ass lightly. “Shut up.”  
  
“Kidding.” Michael kisses him apologetically. “No one’s hotter than you.”  
  
“Shut up,” Luke repeats, this time blushing and bashful, and _God_ Michael loves him.  
  
“I mean it.” He rubs his nose under Luke’s jaw, the skin there smooth and still warm from his shower. “You’re perfect.”  
  
“Not perfect.” Luke tilts his head to the side to give Michael room, and Michael kisses his neck.  
  
“Perfect for me, then. That’s better, anyway.” He pulls the t-shirt he’d hastily slipped on over his head, and then pulls Luke into a real kiss, their mouths bumping together and lips moving against each other’s in slow sweeps. Michael nudges him back toward the bed and gently pushes him down onto it, climbing on top of him. Luke’s legs fall apart, making room for Michael to lower himself between them, their hips pressed together. He can feel Luke’s hardening cock through the thin material separating it from his own, and he rolls his hips so they rub against Luke’s.  
  
“Mikey,” Luke breathes, letting his hands settle low on Michael’s hips, the tips of his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of Michael’s boxers.  
  
Michael loves it when Luke calls him that – only Luke, though. It doesn’t sound right from anyone else. He kisses Luke until he’s gasping for breath and even then he doesn’t stop. Luke’s tongue pushes into his mouth and Michael swirls his own around it, losing himself in Luke’s warm lips and the slow cant of his hips, the pressure constant and maddening on his cock. His mind wanders briefly back to the way Luke looked at him tonight, while he was singing, like he was in awe of him. It made Michael feel shiny and important, it made him feel like he _matters_ in a way he never quite does with anyone but Luke.  
  
“Roll over,” Luke says, patting Michael’s hip with his hand.  
  
Michael does, sliding off Luke and rolling onto his back, but he frowns as he does it. “Why?”  
  
Luke smiles at him, his eyes dark and his expression halfway between playful and seductive, and he crawls between Michael’s legs. “Because I promised you something.”  
  
A wave of arousal crashes over Michael as he remembers. Luke pulls his underwear off and tosses them to the floor. He sends Michael a flirty wink and then he leans down, his warm breath ghosting over Michael’s erection before he licks up the underside, one long, slow sweep of his tongue. He picks it up in one hand and takes the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue in circles around it and letting spit dribble down to slick the way as he strokes slowly, his fingers curled into a tight fist. Michael’s head falls back against the pillow and a moan spills from his mouth. Luke is good at this too, always has been, and Michael loves nothing more than coming down Luke’s throat except for the one thing he _does_ love more than that, and it’s what he wants tonight, eventually. He still lets Luke lick and swallow around him for a while because it feels way too amazing, and because Luke gets so damn _happy_ when he knows he’s making Michael feel good.  
  
Michael runs his fingers through Luke’s soft hair and moans louder as Luke moves down, taking everything he can into his mouth and humming. “ _Fuck_ ,” Michael mumbles. Luke does it again, and Michael’s body is furious with him for it but he has to make Luke stop; it’s too good, he doesn’t want it over this fast.  
  
He grabs Luke’s arm and drags him back up, shoving him onto the bed and getting up to his hands and knees over him. He tugs Luke’s bottom lip into his mouth, teeth clamped gently around the black ring, and then kisses him deeply, tongue dipping between Luke’s lips.  
  
“Too fuckin’ good at that,” Michael tells him; with a fake pout, he adds, “Makin’ me think you’ve been practicing on someone else.”  
  
Luke shakes his head and squeezes the back of Michael’s neck. “Never. Well. I used to practice on bananas sometimes. But never another person.”  
  
Michael pauses, a laugh bubbling out of him at Luke’s unexpected confession. “Wait. Really?”  
  
Luke shrugs. “Yeah. Like, back when we first started.”  
  
“Why? I certainly didn’t have any skills back then. I never expected you to, either.”  
  
“I know. I wanted to. Wanted to be good at it for you.”  
  
Michael gapes at him. The way he says it is so casual, like it’s nothing to get excited about. Like he doesn’t understand how sweet it is, that he wanted to make Michael happy. It makes Michael feel like he’s wrapped up in a warm blanket but at the same time, reminds him starkly of the constant presence of insecurities he’s struggled with his whole life – never good enough, normal enough, never deserving of the good things he has. Luke is wriggling under him, trying to get Michael to kiss him again, but Michael is caught up in his own thoughts and it takes him too long to notice.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Luke asks, eyebrows stitched together in genuine concern.  
  
“I … nothing.” Michael shakes his head a little, trying to toss the thoughts out.  
  
“Tell me,” Luke requests gently, and Michael wants to. Luke makes him want to be honest; vulnerable.  
  
“I just … sometimes I can’t understand why someone like you wants to be with someone like me. I mean, you’re … y’know. You. And I’m me.” He shakes his head again. “It’s stupid.”  
  
Luke stops moving, and for just a moment Michael thinks he’s mad or something. Then Luke plants a foot on the mattress and flips them over, rolling half on top of Michael and hovering above him. He slides his fingers over Michael’s cheek and looks down at him, looks _through_ him, his gaze so intense it makes Michael want to squirm away from it.  
  
“I hate that you don’t know how beautiful you are,” he whispers, and the weight of how much he means it takes Michael’s breath away a little.  
  
Michael doesn’t answer, because he can’t just then. He closes his eyes, and feels soft lips on his forehead.  
  
“I’m serious,” Luke says, the pad of his thumb rubbing in a slow arc under Michael’s eye as he kisses Michael’s cheek, his chin, the bridge of his nose. “You think there aren’t thousands of girls out there who’d give their left arm to be me right now?”  
  
“That’s different,” Michael mumbles, years of self-doubt suddenly coming back out of nowhere – because Luke _cared_ about him back when Michael didn’t care about himself.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Michael can’t explain it, but it is. Having a stadium full of teenage girls screaming his name because he’s in a band isn’t the same as having someone _want_ him, for more than one night. For real, forever.  
  
“So forget about them, then.” Luke rolls a little more onto Michael and rests his forehead against Michael’s neck, covering him completely, wrapping him up. “I’m here. And I think you’re beautiful.”  
  
Michael wraps his arms around Luke’s back and holds on. He still can’t say anything, but Luke’s words leave a burning sensation behind his closed eyes.  
  
“You know, you’re perfect for me too,” Luke murmurs, his lips catching on Michael’s skin. “Pretty sure I’ve loved you from the minute we met. I think that’s why I acted like I hated you. The way I felt about you scared me. It was easier to hate you.”  
  
“Are we crazy to think this can work?” Michael asks, his voice coming out croaky, like it sounds when he has a cold. “That we can actually have this, that we’re not gonna turn into Harry and Louis, like Calum said? They’re miserable, having to hide.”  
  
Luke lifts his head up to kiss Michael again. “That’s a really loaded question. Let’s talk about it another time, okay?”  
  
“You got other plans?” Michael asks, raising an eyebrow and smiling. He’s happy to have Luke here, willing to make him feel better when he’s being stupid and insecure, but he’s also happy the moment is over. Michael doesn’t like it inside his own head sometimes. It’s nice to have someone to pull him out.  
  
Luke smiles back at him. He leans down and rests his forehead on Michael’s. “Was thinkin’ you could fuck me. Y’know. If you want.”  
  
Michael laughs softly. As if he’d ever say no. “Yeah. Always.”  
  
He tilts his head up so their lips meet again, and then nudges Luke over onto the mattress so he can get up and search through his bag for what they need. When he turns back around, Luke is naked and watching him, one hand resting in the center of his chest and the other lazily stroking his cock. Michael nearly swallows his own tongue at the sight. He moves back to the bed, crawling on top of Luke and kissing him messily.  
  
“So freakin’ sexy,” he mutters. “I don’t deserve you.”  
  
He means it as a compliment for Luke, not an insult to himself, but Luke inhales deeply and cups Michael’s face, holding him there.  
  
“Yes you do. Promise me you’re gonna try to start believing that.”  
  
Michael nods and swallows over a sudden lump in his throat. Luke will probably make him believe it, even if Michael never would on his own, and Michael can’t think about how lucky he is to have this without the mood turning again, so he pushes it away.  
  
He pours lube onto his fingers and reaches down between Luke’s legs, trailing them over his balls and lower, finding the small opening and pressing one finger inside slowly. Luke sighs, sounding happy, and instantly demands another because he’s pushy like that. Michael smiles, kisses him, and gives him what he wants. He always gives Luke what he wants. He opens Luke up slower than he needs to, because it feels important right now for reasons Michael doesn’t understand. Luke moans and rocks back against Michael’s hand, forcing his fingers further inside, and Michael bends them just a little and finds the spot that makes Luke shiver.  
  
“Mikey,” he mumbles, and Michael’s heart skips another few beats. “Please.”  
  
“I got you,” Michael promises, in a whisper like it’s a secret, but it isn’t. He’s sure anyone who’s ever met them knows it, knows there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for the man falling apart so beautifully beneath him.  
  
He slides his fingers out and grabs for the lube again, catching Luke’s eye as he slips a condom on and then squeezes more gel into his hand, spreading it over his aching cock. In the beginning, Luke was embarrassed by this part. Now he just watches Michael, immodest and unashamed, and it makes Michael’s heart swell to the point that he sometimes wonders if you can love somebody too much.  
  
Michael kneels between Luke’s spread legs, one hand braced beside Luke’s head, the other holding the base of his cock as he guides it forward. Luke’s eyes don’t leave his, as open and free with his emotions as he is with everything else, and Michael sees it all play across his face – pain, just for a second, and then pleasure, and something else Michael’s afraid to name because it feels too precious to ever leave the heated space between them. He rocks into Luke slowly, letting him adjust, while Luke just stares into Michael’s eyes, so many things in his own blue ones that it’s almost hard to look at but still would be impossible to look away.  
  
Luke cups Michael’s face in one hand and pulls it down as Michael bottoms out, laughing breathlessly against Michael’s lips.  
  
“You okay?” Michael asks. He knows Luke is, but he still asks. He always asks.  
  
“Yeah,” Luke says, sounding happy. “Love it. Love you.”  
  
“Me too.” Michael kisses him as he starts to move, shallow thrusts for a while at first that feel romantic but still leave him wanting more, and then deeper when Luke wraps his legs around Michael’s waist and changes the angle so it’s easier.  
  
“Harder,” Luke pleads with a soft whimper. Michael loves the noises he makes.  
  
He obeys thoughtlessly because it’s Luke – picking up the pace until they’re rocking together, the push and pull practiced; frantic and controlled at the same time and so good it overwhelms Michael. Pleasure blooms bright and hot in his veins, spurred on by Luke’s blunt fingernails digging into his back and the way Luke moans every time Michael pushes in and bumps his prostate. He drops down so he’s flush on top of Luke, Luke’s cock rubbing between their stomachs as Michael thrusts into him, and Michael feels it, the way Luke freezes for just a second and comes with soft grunts muffled against Michael’s shoulder. It’s too good, too much and too electric and the sounds Luke makes have Michael’s head spinning. He rocks into Luke’s warm, tight body a few more times and then loses it, his insides on fire in the best way possible as he fills up the condom and Luke pants underneath him.  
  
He comes down slowly, like waking up from a vivid dream, with Luke’s arms draped over his back and the sound of heavy breathing loud in Michael’s ear, even through the fog in his head. Michael tilts his hips enough to slip out of Luke’s body, kissing him clumsily through the sting, and then falls to the bed beside him. Luke gives him just enough time to get the condom off and toss it into the trash before he’s tugging at Michael, wanting him to come back, pulling Michael into his arms like the life-sized teddy bear Luke’s always acted like Michael is. Michael is more than okay with it. He’s warm and safe and happy in Luke’s arms. Always has been.  
  
“I love you,” Luke whispers again, pushing his nose through Michael’s hair slowly like he’s trying to memorize the way it smells.  
  
“Love you more,” Michael whispers back, his heart swelling again, and it’s maybe a little scary because of how real this all is now, so he closes his eyes and curls into Luke and lets his boyfriend soothe away everything except how it feels to be here with him.


End file.
